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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328155">apricus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter'>bleakmidwinter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Beach Sex, Cuba, First Time, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03, always bring lube to the beach, unhealthy dynamic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:20:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A beach house in Cuba and a luxurious life on the run.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>305</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>apricus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>apricus;</p><p>'The Latin word "apricus," meaning, "full of sunlight." It is directly related to the English word "apricate," meaning to bask in the sunshine.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I feel like a pig on a spit-roast."</p><p>The sun beats down on Will's skin and it is suddenly clear to him the expensive sunscreen Hannibal bought for them isn’t going to be anything nearing effective. As a man used to deep snow and the dark cold of New England weather, he finds the Cuban sun invasive and sweltering.</p><p>"Do you feel as if you are spinning over a fire?" Hannibal inquires.</p><p>Will dares to glance over at him, opening his eyes for the first time in thirty minutes. Hannibal is wearing fashionable sunglasses, unabashedly nude except for long, semi-tight swimming trunks. Will does not hold back scanning his body up and down, lingering on the places sand sticks to his still-damp skin. His hair has dried in the sun, curled in natural places, and specks of sand are dispersed throughout the strands. </p><p>"No, not spinning," Will responds belatedly. "I feel grounded." </p><p>In another life, he <em> would </em> be spinning. Dizziness had once become second nature to him. He now lies horizontally on a towel, feeling the scorch of the sand beneath the heels of his feet where they protrude over the protective layer between him and the beach.</p><p>Hannibal lays half off his towel, having plopped down like a starfish after his rather long swim in the ocean. It is not precisely a private beach, but Will has only ever seen one couple walking along the shoreline the entire five months he’s been here. </p><p>Will continues to stare at Hannibal in a daze, sick of shielding his sight from the harmful effect of the sun rays and turning his interest wholly to him. </p><p><em> Is it better to go blind than lose himself to Hannibal? </em> He wonders briefly.</p><p>"You should swim, Will," Hannibal suggests evenly without sparing his company a single glance. </p><p>"I don't want to have to reapply sunscreen when I get back."</p><p>"I will reapply it for you."</p><p>Will's eyes flutter and he turns towards the ocean, the promise of his return from those depths more inviting than the act of swimming itself. </p><p>It is boiling hot. He feels he could pass out. </p><p>He takes Hannibal's advice and scurries down to the water's edge, sparing one glance back to where Hannibal watches him steadily behind his sunglasses. He moves swiftly into the water. While the temperature is nothing resembling cold, it is significantly chillier in comparison to the temperature of his skin. You could cook an egg on the burning expanse of his back. </p><p>He wades as deep as his neck, flipping onto his backside and winces as the sun greets him once more, bright and overbearing. He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines it is nighttime and Hannibal is preparing dinner in their house. </p><p>He imagines Hannibal floating beside him, intertwining their hands like seaweed slipping through the crevices of Will's fingers. </p><p>Will had never been much of a swimmer. He could swim no problem, having done so often in his youth. But, he doesn't seek it out like Hannibal does. He prefers his exercise in the context of rugged and musky jogs in the woods, or repairing something that requires quite a bit of arm strength. He finds he holds a lack of interest for treading water and losing himself to the tide. One yearns to feel grounded. </p><p>Will opens his eyes after a minute of mindless floating and finds he has drifted far from shore, out of Hannibal's line of sight. A perfect example of Will's reluctance to participate in this action. He wades back to shore, lining himself up with the spot he and Hannibal have staked out. The sand is searing on his feet as he trots back over. Landing ass first on his towel, he sighs and his eyes flutter shut again.</p><p>He startles when he hears a bottle uncapping and a noise of a liquid substance being squirted out onto Hannibal's hand.</p><p>"Turn over, Will." </p><p>Will does instantly, no hesitance. His heart beats out of his chest when he feels hands on his cool back, rubbing an even cooler lotion into his sensitive skin. </p><p>"You mustn't burn," Hannibal reminds, thumbs dipping down his lower back, just above the waistband of his swimming trunks. Bashful, Will turns his face away from Hannibal, staring at a crab a long distance away from him. He focuses his energy on its stillness rather than the dexterous fingers working over pressure points he hadn't known existed until now.</p><p>It's over too soon until Hannibal tells him to turn once more and his hands are resupplied with sunscreen, rubbing roughly over his chest, down his thighs and calves. Will is forced to watch him, unable to twist his head comfortably enough to keep his eyes on the crab instead. Hannibal appears remarkably clinical about this, considering how deliberate and languid he is towards his coarse movements. He seems to linger above Will's pecs and the upper portion of his thighs.</p><p>Will’s breaths come in short bursts, quickening under Hannibal’s caress. Pointed thumbs slide just centimetres under his suit, the only article separating him from basking in his true, disrobed form. As God created him, he supposes. </p><p>Will leans in to kiss him when Hannibal's face is just close enough. He brings up a hand to cradle Hannibal's cheek. The second kiss he’s stolen since they’ve planted themselves in this life. Hannibal kisses back with little to no fervor, dedicated to his task.</p><p>He pulls away briskly then, finishing rubbing the white lotion over Will’s shoulders. Will is impatient, humoring him all the while he stares at his lips. When Hannibal appears satisfied, Will scoots closer and recaptures his mouth. With an amused sigh, Hannibal kisses back, open-mouthed and pliant. </p><p>The air smells too strongly of suntan lotion and salt. It is surprising that Hannibal’s mouth tastes of smoke; he barely lights a cigar anymore. Will kisses him until he’s breathless, running a hand through Hannibal’s hair because he hasn’t done so before. It is silky and smooth just as he’d imagined it would feel. Emboldened, he shifts closer, off his towel, and somewhat onto Hannibal’s.</p><p>The sand where it touches his skin doesn’t burn any longer. The water had cooled him, and he is warming in a different way, a way he hasn’t in a long time. </p><p>Will keeps one hand on Hannibal’s face to make sure he doesn’t retreat, and drags the other from his hair down to his shoulder, and his abdomen. He runs his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair where he can feel specks of sand fall to the towel between them.</p><p>He pulls back for a moment so they can both catch their breath, but it isn’t enough. Hannibal looks content and sated where he lies horizontally, propped up on one elbow. But, it’s not nearly enough for Will. He slips a leg over Hannibal’s thigh, inserting himself between his legs as he grows closer, their chests snug against one another. </p><p>Hannibal seems to get the picture, using his arms to cradle Will against him. </p><p>Will tenses when he feels their cocks brush together, both semi-hard. Hannibal notices this and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear with a heavy fondness. </p><p>“You taste lovely, but there needn’t be a rush today or any day. We have all the time in the world,” Hannibal tells him in that velvety voice that makes him burn. </p><p>Will’s fingers twitch where they rest on his stomach, itching to abandon the moment, and also desperately wanting to get back to it with renewed vigor. </p><p>“I’ve never wanted a man. I never will,” Will explains. “But, I...I want you.”</p><p>“And I am a man,” Hannibal concludes.</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Is this a serious issue for you, Will? Do you struggle to continue because I am not a woman?” Hannibal says this calmly, unaffected. </p><p>Will shakes his head and trails his hand lightly down his stomach, reflecting on the feeling of soft hair against his knuckles. </p><p>“You’re an exception. My want for you surpasses my proclivities. I just,” Will swallows and averts his gaze, “I’m not sure if I can perform adequately.” </p><p>Quiet laughter rumbles from Hannibal’s throat. Feeling humiliated, Will’s expression sharpens and he moves to turn away. Hannibal tugs him closer, and takes Will’s chin between two fingers forcing him to look up at his eyes. Will still attempts to shirk away. </p><p>“Will, I am not laughing <em> at </em> you,” Hannibal assures. “Are you worried you won’t respond to me? You’re responding now.” </p><p>Will licks his lips and his skin feels too hot under Hannibal’s punishing grasp. He’s not sure what Hannibal means until he feels calloused fingers slide over his swimming trunks, over his hardened cock which twitches beneath the touch. He makes a quiet, needy sound without helping it.</p><p>“Can you deny it?” Hannibal asks.</p><p>Will shakes his head. </p><p>“It’s more my inexperience I’m worried about. I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” he mutters, behooved to admit the weakness. Hannibal strokes his knuckles over Will’s cheek, rough from the facial hair and the scar which has long since healed. </p><p>“Do you trust me?” Hannibal asks. </p><p>Will could laugh. He could roll away and walk back to their house in response to such an idiotic question. But, it is not without merit. </p><p>“Damned if I do,” Will says with a wry smile. “Damned if I don’t.” </p><p>Hannibal grins back, wolfish, and leans forward to kiss him. There is something animal about the gesture, Will feels sharp teeth and his heart is racing as he rushes to meet the pace set, but Hannibal pulls away just as he starts to feel light-headed.</p><p>“After dinner, we will return. When the tide is in.” </p><p>Will blinks, confused, but he nods. Hannibal kisses his forehead and stands, helping Will up. They carry their belongings in and go about the rest of their day as if nothing had happened. Well, Hannibal does. Will spends his time gawking at Hannibal every time his back is turned. When Hannibal takes a shower before preparing for dinner, Will watches unashamed from where he sits in the living room. Over his shoulder, he can visualize the hard lines on Hannibal’s abdomen teasing their extension beneath the towel which hangs loosely on his hips.</p><p>When Hannibal disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, Will adjusts himself in his jeans, unable to keep the edge off long enough to ignore his own ache. </p><p>When the sun begins to descend, they have oysters, and Hannibal goes on to tell Will one of his rare stories about Florence. About a man named Anthony Dimmond he and Bedelia had encountered not too long before Will had shown his face in Italy. Hannibal spends an extensive amount of time explaining Dimmond’s attire and presentation as an individual. He spends an even more extensive period of time speaking of how he killed him, how it had felt. </p><p>Will listens with intrigue, caught between the desperate need to understand every minute detail of Hannibal’s design and the irrational envy that tugs at his inner monster. He spreads butter on a slice of bread as Hannibal describes the noise Dimmond’s neck made when it snapped and briefly considers stabbing Hannibal. Instead, he sets his knife on the side of his plate.</p><p>Hannibal stacks plates and other dishes on one arm like a circus performer, prepared to bring them to the sink before he swoops down to whisper in Will’s ear. </p><p>Will’s pulse quickens when he feels the breath on his skin, his deep voice so close. The anticipation had made his desire stronger. </p><p>“Take a shower, and when you’re finished meet me by the shore.” </p><p>Will nods once, staring into the middle distance. When Hannibal disappears to the kitchen, he scrambles to the bathroom, stripping as efficiently as he can and hops in the shower as if the floor were burning. He hisses at the sting of the cold water, grimacing until it runs hot. The clock seems to tick faster every second. </p><p>He tries not to imagine Hannibal sprawled out on the sand, the orange sunset bathing him in warm light. The tide lapping at his calves and toes as it threatens to engulf him back into the salty waters where they both should have been lost to sea.</p><p>Will groans, gripping his cock tightly to halt the onslaught of heat rushing to his groin. He has one hand pressed to the tile wall so he doesn’t topple over. This <em> cannot </em>end before it begins. </p><p>When Will makes his way outside, the wind is cool on his freshly washed skin. He can make out slim movement in the ocean. Hannibal is dunking himself under the water, making small laps around a concentrated area. The sun dances and reflects off his skin as if he were made of glass. A mystical creature, one from tall tales. </p><p>Will gradually moves down the steps leading from the porch to the sand and keeps his eyes on Hannibal as he grows closer to the shoreline. The tide has certainly come in since noon, the water far past the point they had been sunbathing prior. </p><p>The sand no longer burns the heels of his feet. </p><p>Hannibal notices him when he’s a few feet from the threshold where sand grows wet and sinks under the pressure of Will’s weight. He dunks under once more and cranes his neck back when he surfaces, casting all of his hair out of his face. </p><p>Will stops when the tide caresses his feet only to retreat back and return full force, crashing against his calves. A chill runs up his spine, the water not too cold yet nothing resembling the heat of the shower. </p><p>Hannibal makes his way towards him, emerging inch by inch. </p><p>Will’s eyes trail down to Hannibal’s cock as he is revealed unclothed. It hangs limp and long over his thigh. Will cannot help the flutter of his eyes and his fingers tugging absent-mindedly at the bottom of his own swimming trunks.</p><p>When Hannibal is about a foot away from him, he forces himself to look up into that hollowing gaze, and he pulls Hannibal to him, not willing to wait a moment longer.</p><p>Hannibal is compliant and demanding all at once. His hands are fisted, trailing his knuckles down over Will’s recently dried skin, fingertips on his left hand sliding underneath the rim of his shorts. Will shudders and licks further into Hannibal’s mouth, tasting the remnants of their meal and salt water. </p><p>He feels Hannibal’s cock brush against his clothed one, and he grimaces at the feeling. It feels better than it should, far better, and it’s not enough. </p><p>Hannibal opens his right fist to reveal a small bottle. A lube of some sort, Will immediately intuits. He recaptures Hannibal’s gaze and raises his brows in amused disbelief. </p><p>“I never come unprepared,” Hannibal says simply, falling to his knees and tugging Will’s swimming trunks down to his ankles in one swift movement. </p><p>Will tips forward, caught off guard. A surge of desire tingles throughout his body, and he grasps at Hannibal’s shoulders to keep himself steady. </p><p>Hannibal’s tongue flicks out like a snake’s would, teasing at his balls and pressing sucking wet kisses slowly up the base of Will’s cock. Will lets out a strangled noise and digs half-moons into the skin beneath his hands. </p><p>When he reaches the head of his cock, he gently sucks it into his mouth and his eyes close. He looks rapturous as he dips lower and lower, taking Will to the hilt without a single grievance. Will thinks he might die. </p><p>The bottle of lubricant is discarded to the sand as Hannibal drags his nails up over Will’s hip bones, gripping tight bruises into the soft handles there. </p><p>“Hannibal,” Will whispers in a breathy voice, staring down at him as if he were God on Earth. Hannibal reaches a hand to one of Will’s and Will intertwines their fingers, gripping hard. </p><p>Hannibal’s eyes remain closed as he continues the torturous suction. Too slow to get Will off in the way he wants, but hard enough to bring him to the edge, over and over again. His hips stutter forward when Hannibal draws back, body subconsciously begging to be allowed the opportunity to use his mouth for his own pleasure. </p><p>Will strokes his free hand through Hannibal’s silvered hair, staring at the place his lips are locked over his cock, moving wetly back and forth. Somewhere deep in his gut he burns wildly, and he thrusts his cock forward without thinking. </p><p>Hannibal opens his eyes then, a challenge reflecting in them. They look like sea glass in the dim colors of the surrounding twilight. </p><p>Hannibal seems to contemplate something before letting Will’s throbbing dick fall from his lips. Before Will can ask, he is being lifted into the air and kissed senselessly. He throws his limbs around Hannibal so he doesn’t fall and realizes Hannibal is moving, just far enough away from the water to drop him carefully onto the softer sand.</p><p>It feels good on his back, not damp or burning. </p><p>Hannibal disappears between his legs again, and his mouth is back on him, more fervent than before. A high-pitched moan ripples from Will’s throat. His thighs fall open, he cranes his neck back, every nerve screaming in pleasured agony. He knows he’ll be finding sand in his hair for weeks, but he pays this fact no mind. </p><p>“Hannibal, slow down,” Will whines, “I’m going to come if you keep... “ He keens when he feels a scrape of teeth with an accompanying suction that makes his toes curl. </p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” he groans, eyes squeezing shut. His fingers dig into the sand, scrambling for some form of purchase and finding none. </p><p>His orgasm hits him when he doesn’t expect it to, and his back arches, legs throwing themselves around Hannibal’s head to cage him in. His hips thrust up into Hannibal’s mouth who seems to have no issue taking everything Will is willing to give. </p><p>He comes back to himself and realizes the sky has become a shade darker, slightly more purple than before he’d closed his eyes. Hannibal is still lapping at his cock as if he can’t have enough of Will’s taste and it drives him crazy. His hips stutter up at the oversensitized attention. </p><p>He takes Hannibal’s hair in his grip and pulls him upwards.</p><p>He kisses him, biting at his lips, and sucking on Hannibal’s tongue lewdly, satisfied to earn a low noise from the back of his throat. </p><p>“I wanted you inside of me,” he chastises, stroking a hand down Hannibal’s smooth cheek. He must have just shaved.</p><p>“And will you refuse me now?” Hannibal dangles the bottle of lube in between two fingers. Will turns to gawk at it.</p><p>In his shock, Will stupidly asks, “ When the hell did you pick that back up?”</p><p>With a devious smirk, he uncaps it and pours a liberal amount on his right hand. Will watches without comment as he coats his fingers, drawing them down to press at his opening. Will tenses, and grabs Hannibal’s shoulder, not halting him, but not encouraging him either. His eyes are bug-wide and Hannibal leans in to kiss him.</p><p>“I wish to make you come twice tonight. Is that also what you desire?” </p><p>Will stares at him and realizes just how beautiful he is. Will’s never been attracted to men. Has never really thought about the features of a man in this way. But, with Hannibal, he adores every single hard line in his face, the slight bags under his eyes, the color of his hair which seems to change depending on the light or angle. His eyes, his <em> fucking </em>mouth which is red and spit-slick. </p><p>His cock twitches against his thigh and he nods frantically, pulling what belongs to him down to his face to kiss and claim. </p><p>He has relaxed enough to allow the intrusion, and Hannibal’s middle finger slips in, stretching and burning him, and it’s too much and not enough. </p><p>Will shakes when Hannibal upgrades to two and by the time a third is added, he is clutching at Hannibal’s shoulders as if he’d fall into a black hole if he let go. Hannibal is remarkably patient as he scissors his fingers in and out of his body, sufficiently causing Will’s cock to fill and throb when he continues to press deep.</p><p>Will isn’t an expert in sex, he’d never been pleasure-seeking, being more a seeker of connection in whatever form it comes in, but in this moment he wonders how he ever lived without Hannibal inside of him. Hell, it isn’t even his cock yet.</p><p>“Please,” Will chokes out, kissing Hannibal, begging him with his mouth and his eyes. Hannibal mercifully stops and removes his fingers, simply uncapping the bottle of lube again and slicks his own dick up. Somehow, sand has kept its way out the equation between their legs and the slide inside of Will is slick and without friction. </p><p>Will heaves flat against the beach, clutching desperately to Hannibal’s biceps. Hannibal is silent, yet imploring him not to resist, rubbing soothing circles against his trembling thighs. Will doesn’t want to resist, but he’s spent so many years building up walls. He’s had sex, but not anything close to this. This is intimate. Hannibal can see him in ways that no one else ever has. </p><p>“Does it hurt?” Hannibal questions softly, hips still and flush against Will. </p><p>Concern. A foreign concept for the man in front of him. Will wonders when Hannibal became another person, but no, this is the man he’s always been. </p><p>“Yes,” Will says and when Hannibal makes a move to change his position, he grips his biceps tighter, shaking his head. “Not physically.” He watches Hannibal steadily as he rolls his hips against Hannibal’s cock. Will lets out a breathy sigh. “It hurts because it feels so good.” He watches his eyes flutter and drags Hannibal in for a kiss, muttering against his lips. “And, I don't want to be anywhere but in this moment, ever again.” </p><p>Hannibal makes a needy sound, moving within Will against his own volition. It is a victory in its own right, to break Hannibal down to his bare essentials, want and need, and watch him take as he pleases. Will allows it all, to be filled and vacated over and over again until the heat in his groin spreads throughout his entire body.</p><p>Hannibal mouths against his neck as they undulate in the sand. Hannibal’s cock feels perfect as it grazes against his insides, at that spot deep inside him that is setting him on fire. When he feels himself hurtling towards the precipice he says, “Stop.” </p><p>It is an impossible order to obey yet Hannibal does, heavy and strained panting in his ear making Will’s dick throb in sympathy. </p><p>He pushes Hannibal on his back and has a limited amount of time to take in Hannibal’s exquisite surprise and wanton need expressed on his face when he straddles his thighs. Will tips his head back as he impales himself back on Hannibal’s cock. They groan in unison as they continue their pace.</p><p>Hannibal seems to go deeper from this angle and Will braces himself on his knees to bounce up and down on his cock, shame and sheepishness draining from him entirely.</p><p>When he looks back down at Hannibal, Will finds him to be staring up at his face, a look of enlightenment painting his features. It is love in every form it can be described in. Love is something that Will feared once a long time ago, and yet when he makes eye contact with Hannibal, he feels it like a current and he keels over, falling into Hannibal as his pleasure spikes. Hannibal thrusts hard against his prostate once more and he’s coming untouched in long streaks over Hannibal’s chest, twitching and hips moving on their own over Hannibal’s cock who seems to finally allow his own barriers to slip.</p><p>Hannibal thrusts up twice more before he’s following, groaning into Will’s neck, uncaring that the tide has come in further, reaching up to his neck. “<em> Will </em>,” his voice is a caress that soothes Will irrevocably. His hair grows wet as he clutches Will tight to his body in the aftershocks; both are covered in sand and sweat, and are illuminated by the remaining light in the sky. The air has grown cool and Will has to see Hannibal. </p><p>He looks into his eyes and finds the same, suffocating love. He wants to drown in it. Instead, he says, “I love you.” </p><p>Hannibal curls a strand of Will’s hair over his ear and cracks a broken smile.</p><p>Will’s heart drops. It is love he sees in Hannibal’s eyes, but it is not the only emotion lingering deep in the duel abyss of his gaze. There is fear, pure unbridled fear.</p><p>It is so rare in Hannibal that Will draws away just enough to get a better look at his face, to see if what he sees is truly there. It is. </p><p>“You don’t believe me.” </p><p>Hannibal’s eyes are wet and his nostrils flare. He is keeping the dam from breaking. He is swallowing down the answers Will wants to hear.</p><p>“My dear Will,” He says in a faint voice, “One day you will tire of this life. Of me, of killing, the repetitive lavishness of my lifestyle.”</p><p>Will’s stare hardens and there is a volatile feeling boiling inside him that makes him want to both thrash and choke, and also run and hide. </p><p>“You don’t know that,” he responds evenly. “Not even you are omniscient.” </p><p>“You are correct, Will. I do not know that. You may wish to stay by my side forever, and we may die together in fire and glory or in our bed, clutching our aged bodies against one another until our last breath.” Hannibal’s gaze grows glassy, and unreachable. “But, I do not know that either.” </p><p>“Are you feeling insecure?” Will asks curtly. “You want reassurance? You want me to promise you that I’ll never leave your side?” Bitterness drips from his tone and he forgets they are both naked and sprawled out on the beach in front of their house. </p><p>“It is not insecurity,” Hannibal says, then, “I love you so profoundly that I could not bear to lose you again.” </p><p>Will spirals, confusion and love and a harsh and hardened venom creating a sickening cocktail that rests dormant somewhere deep inside of him. </p><p>“I would not allow you to leave,” Hannibal says finally, and Will thinks he understands. He pulls back an inch, watching Hannibal carefully.</p><p>“Are you saying you would kill me if I tried to leave you?”</p><p>“Yes,” Hannibal says without skipping a beat. </p><p>A shiver runs through Will and a sense of relief, humor even. He stokes a hand down Hannibal’s sternum, putting on a show of consideration before looking back up with a refined understanding that baffles Hannibal.</p><p>“I’ll kill you if you try,” Will replies. He smiles and kisses Hannibal’s lips. “You should know me better than that to think this truth would put distance between us.”</p><p>Hannibal surges forward and kisses Will roughly, nearly knocking him over. Will kisses back, settling himself on Hannibal’s lap, laughing into his mouth and circling his arm around his warm neck. He grabs a fistful of Hannibal’s hair, pulling his head back hard. Hannibal watches him from behind his eyelashes, veins in his neck straining. </p><p>“I love you,” Will says. “If I were to one day wish to leave, I would kill <em> you </em>.”</p><p>“I would hope you would,” Hannibal responds reverently. </p><p>Will can tell he understands him and loosens his grip only to tighten it once more and draw Hannibal in for another kiss. </p><p>“But, I don’t want to go,” he says in a whisper, voice cracking unexpectedly.</p><p>Hannibal draws him down to his shoulder so he can rest his head there. Will feels for a moment like the ghost of the man he’d left on the cliff. Hannibal brushes a hand through Will’s curls, and whispers, “I know.” </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sunny and sweaty just like Bryan Fuller will never be able to give me. Just kidding, hope you enjoyed. I've been missing them so much lately, writing is the only consolation (sidenote; i might have been inspired by the film stranger by the lake).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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